


Dial M for Mulder

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11347188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: The challenge was that the boys should have phone sex. I love phone sex. Everyone who knows me is aware of what a slut I am for phone sex...and nobody will phone me. Go figure. Now, there is the plot. There ain't no more.





	Dial M for Mulder

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Dial "M" for Mulder by Dr. Ruthless

Dial "M" for Mulder  
by Dr. Ruthless  
Disclaimer: Want them...need them... got to have them....please, Surfer Dude, I won't profit from them.  
Thanks to the glorious Infernale sisterhood, now a quintet as Frankie joins our hideous ranks. Pretty soon the entire world will belong....Muahahaha! Thanks to Aries, Orithain, Nicole and Frankie, and also to Rowanne and Paula, none of whom have anything better to do. Despite their best efforts, there are bound to be mistakes and those are mine, all mine. Muahahah...oh, I already said that. Sorry.  
Plot: The challenge was that the boys should have phone sex. I love phone sex. Everyone who knows me is aware of what a slut I am for phone sex...and nobody will phone me. Go figure. Now, there is the plot. There ain't no more.  
Spoilers: Ummm let me see...Terma, Dreamland, The Red and the Black...I think that's it.  
Rated NC/17 for M/M sex, and if that offends, it ain't for you. go and read something pure.  
Feedback: Please, grovel, need feedback in the worst possible way. Feed my habit please. 

* * *

Dial "M" for Mulder  
by Dr. Ruthless

*********************************************

Ringing... ringing... The phone was ringing, and Mulder, who had been sound asleep on his couch with his feet on the coffee table, realized that he absolutely didn't want to answer it.

He knew what kind of call it would be.

He knew what kind it had been every time it had rung for the past 48 hours. The only thing he didn't know was why. It continued to ring, the angry noise jangling Mulder's nerves and making him want to pick the phone up and hurl it into the street below.

He reached out to pick it up and pulled it to his ear, knowing what would happen.

"Mulder." The silence on the other end of the phone stretched out painfully. Mulder could hear no sound to suggest that anyone was there, and he finally allowed his anger to manifest itself. "Listen! I don't know who you are or why you're harassing me, but you should know that I'm a federal agent and the next time you call me, this number will have a trace on it."

The silence at the other end of the phone was a palpable entity, and as he finished speaking, Mulder thought he heard the very faintest snort of laughter from whoever it was at the other end. Then there was a click and finally dead air.

He stood up, stretching, all traces of sleep evaporated as his mind raced, pondering the vexing question of who might be stalking him. Sighing, he made a mental note to himself to get a tracer slapped on his phone in the morning.

2am.

Shit!

The phone rang again, and he grabbed it.

"Listen, you bastard. I've had enough of this. If you... "

"Mulder? Mulder, it's me. What's wrong?" Scully's voice cut across the blustering, and Mulder closed his eyes and leaned his forehead onto his hand. God he was stupid.

"Hi, Scully. Nothing's wrong. Just a couple of crank phone calls, that's all." He shivered. Despite the thermal shirt he was wearing, he suddenly felt chilled.

"For heaven's sake, Mulder, get some sleep, and in the morning we'll look at getting a trace put on your phone." Her words were sensible, soothing his jangled nerves and calming him.

"Sorry, Scully. I was sleeping when the bastard called, and it got to me. Why did you phone me at 2 on a Friday night?"

"Oh, I wanted to share some news with you, but it can keep. You sound as if you've been totally spooked." The concern in her voice brought home to him just how much he depended on her. He wondered again if he should make a play for her. Maybe he should settle down with her and live happily ever after.

As usual, he decided that it wouldn't be fair. The love he had for Scully was the love he might have given Samantha had she been around to receive it, and there was no spark between them. He sighed. Did everyone in the world except for him find love? Why had he never felt that special chemistry that would herald the discovery of his soul mate?

"Come on, Scully, it must be really big news for you to call me so late. I bet that if you keep it until morning, you'll explode with a bang and a flash, and it will be really messy. Better tell me and save the clean up squad a lot of time and effort." He was smiling now, his posture relaxing, leaning back against the couch and stretching long legs out as he became more animated.

"I think I'm in love, Mulder." He listened to the words, turning them this way and that in his mind while he tried to identify any traces of hurt in himself. Nope. Not a thing.

"Scully, I'm jealous. I thought you were saving yourself for me." His voice was plaintive, and she laughed.

"You know I could never compete with Debbie doing Dallas, or the Breasted Americans. Besides, that's not what I mean." Her voice dropped, becoming conspiratorial, "I've got a kitten. He's a red point Siamese and very elegant. I've called him Fox."

"Why, Scully, you know the other kids will laugh him out of school. Besides," he frowned, "you've got perfectly good breasts as I recall."

"Thank you for those few kind words. I'll let you go now. Get some sleep and I'll be by in the morning. I may just bring the Gunmen." Mulder murmured his goodnight and then sat looking at the phone before replacing it in its cradle.

As he was putting it down, it rang.

He picked it up quickly. "Scully? Did you forget something?" Another long silence and he felt a fist clench around the pit of his stomach. "I'm hanging up now, you jerk. Have a nice life." As he took the phone from his ear, the voice cut through his awareness with an unpleasant jolt.

"Mulder." The voice was a strange, thin voice and at first hearing Mulder could not have told whether it belonged to a man or a woman.

"Who is this? What do you want from me?" He was yelling and stood up to pace around his living room as he spoke.

"Mulder, take off your clothes. Take off your blue shirt and your jeans." Mulder stopped short. The voice oozed over him like oily water. He felt somehow dirtied. He quickly stepped over to his window and closed his drapes, then threw the phone back into the cradle.

Almost inevitably it rang again, shrilling its message, as he was half a yard away. He came back, picked it up and screamed something into it. He was never sure afterwards just what it was he said, and then yanked the plug out of the wall. Agitated, he paced up and down, trying to gather his thoughts and calm himself down. Finally he wandered out to the kitchen and pulled the vodka bottle out of his freezer. Pouring himself a tumbler full, he took a couple of gulps, gasping as the liquor went down, then he made his way back to the living room to sink back on his couch.

His mind raced. Who would be doing this to him? Why? He thought back over the events of the past few days. On Wednesday he and Scully had concluded their case up in Maine and flown back to DC. He had arrived home at around 7pm, and the calls had begun almost immediately. Since then he had received calls whenever he was at home. Now the person had finally spoken, but he was no nearer to identifying him than before.

He was angry. Worse, he felt violated. In his whole pathetic goddamned life he had never felt quite so helpless. He finished his drink and poured himself another from the bottle he had placed down on the floor beside the couch.

He flicked through the channels, discarding infomercials, pulling the plug on old movies, blasting reruns of 70s sitcoms and trashing late night talk shows. Sighing, he turned to find a video and inserted it into the player. As the titles rolled, he settled down to watch with a grunt of satisfaction, and then, changing his mind, he paused it, plugged his phone back into the wall and began to dial.

"1-900-ICOME4U... " The phone rang and was picked up quickly by a breathy, little-girl voice.

"Hi, it's Marty." The squeal from the other end of the phone brought a smile to his face, and he sat back to listen to perky obscenities designed to get him off so he could sleep. He was just listening to the lovely Franchesca describing how she was going to make him scream for more, when he heard the rattle and click of his apartment door opening.

He cursed under his breath, then he hung up the phone on baby voiced Franchesca, re-fastened his jeans and got up to go and see who it was that was breaking into his apartment at this time of the night. He worked his way through the hallway, and as the door was opening, he seized it, yanking it forward so that the person behind it catapulted into the room as if shot from a gun. He brought the heel of his hand down hard on the back of the intruder's neck, and then stepped away to fasten and re-lock the door, before turning to see what he had caught. He was looking forward, maliciously, to working off a little steam on the poor, misfortunate creature he had snagged here.

Taking hold of the collar of a black leather jacket, he hauled up the fallen intruder. He didn't stop to try and remonstrate with him in the hallway but dragged the choking, groaning unfortunate into the light of his living room.

He had his gun out in his hand ready, and as he jerked his night visitor forwards, off balance, he pushed the barrel firmly into the back of the other man's neck. As they reached the living room Mulder shoved the other man, who went down onto his hands and knees, freezing there as Mulder applied the gun to his kidneys, jabbing viciously.

He could not see the intruder's face, only the back of his head. He wore a leather jacket, and his legs were encased in black denim. On his feet Mulder could see black leather boots with silver chains at the ankles. Mulder backed away from him to sit on the couch. In the corner of the room the low gasping and yelping indicated that Debbie was still doing Dallas, and that Dallas, individually or in a group, was happy about that.

"Get up! Sit cross legged on the, floor and put your hands on your head." The man on the floor groaned faintly before moving to comply with Mulder's instructions.

Alex Krycek. It was Alex Krycek and now it all started to make sense in some warped way, except for why was he doing it? Why was he tormenting Mulder? Why did Krycek ever do anything?

He would find out.

The last time he was here in this apartment, Krycek had kissed him. Why had he done that? Face it, the man was totally weird.

Krycek, who had assumed a sitting position, as ordered, was looking remarkably unrepentant as he sat, one hand up on his head and the other dangling loosely at his side. He grinned up at Mulder as he sat.

"A little on edge tonight aren't we, Mulder?" Mulder, his guts twisting in unpleasant little knots, was tempted to pistol whip his uninvited guest for that little remark. Only the fact that he was actually comfortable on the couch and the fact that he had drunk at least a quarter of a bottle of vodka and might miscalculate saved Krycek from a split lip and assorted bruises being dished out to him right then.

"You bastard. Put your hands on your head like I said. I'll shoot you if you even breathe too deeply." Mulder dived headlong into his anger,and it felt so good to lash out at this enemy, this nemesis who was temporarily helpless before him.

A sneer from Krycek caused Mulder to furrow his brow as the other man behaved in a totally unexpected fashion. Something was wrong here. Didn't the bastard know that he was in charge? Mulder finally stood, walking over to Krycek as he knelt in front of him and smacked his gun into the side of his head. The casual violence acted on him like the release of an over-wound spring. Krycek cried out, a mix of pain and fury glowing on his face as the red blood sprang to the gash newly laid open on his cheek.

"Shit, Mulder! Get it together. How the fuck can I put my hand on my head? You made sure that would never happen again, didn't you, you asshole." The words were bitter, and they drew Mulder up short in mid blow, arm raised to strike, slowly descending as the import of the words drilled in.

"What are you talking about? What did I do?" He stood, brow furrowed, looking for all the world like a teenager being quizzed on homework he hadn't done.

Krycek spat words at him, anger turning his lips white and causing stark contrast to the rapidly purpling bruise that was growing over his cheekbone, while the red rose of blood welled and blossomed at its center.

"Because of you, you bastard, they cut my fucking arm off. You'll have to go back to Russia if you want me to put it on my head for you. Only thing is, I'm not sure if I'll be here when you get back." Mulder was looking at Krycek in blank amazement. He was not sure what Krycek was talking about. He looked at Krycek's limp left arm. The man was lying. He had to be.

"Why are you here? Why do you keep phoning me? What's the point of this latest mind game, Krycek? What do you want from me?" He sounded like a petulant child. He could hear it in the whiny timbre of his voice and inwardly cringed at his own neediness.

"Well, it's funny you should ask me that. I phoned you half an hour ago, wanting to tell you some interesting news about the woman Fowley, and you screamed at me down the phone. You sounded as if you were demented. I thought you might need some help, and I came on over." Krycek had sat back up and was gesturing with his right hand as he spoke. Mulder could see now how ominously motionless that left arm of his was. He bit his lip. The voice on the other end of the phone hadn't sounded like Krycek, and yet anything could be done in these days of electronic wizardry. Just look at what the Gunmen had done the week before. Scully was still mad at him. They had fooled her completely.

"What's happening, Mulder? You aren't your usual, lovable, paranoid self tonight. You're positively writing a new chapter on strangeness." His husky voice brushed across Mulder's ears like the kiss of a beloved, and Mulder felt the solid base of his existence to date sliding away from him, leaving him floundering as he tried to make sense of the day. He stood before Krycek, his gun wavering, then his shoulders slumped and he suddenly looked old and incredibly weary.

"Someone keeps on phoning me. For a while the calls were silent. Just dead air, but now whoever it is has made it plain that they can see me. They know what I'm doing and what I'm wearing, Krycek." Even as he spoke, the anguish apparent in his voice made Krycek aware that he was in great distress.

At that moment the phone rang, and Mulder picked it up before Krycek could say another word. He listened for a minute and then said "Mulder."

"You drew your drapes, but I know you have a visitor. He's a very pretty young man. Are you going to bed with him?" Mulder's eyes darkened with shock, and he gasped, allowing his hand, with the receiver in it, to drop. Krycek put out a questing hand to take the phone from Mulder.

"This is the Mulder residence. Mr. Mulder will not be answering any further calls tonight. Please leave a message after the tone." He blew a large raspberry down the phone and replaced the receiver. Mulder, who had watched him in wonder, went off into the kitchen to snag another tumbler, and on his return he poured out a generous helping of vodka and handed the glass to Krycek, along with a vaguely grunted apology.

Krycek slowly gathered himself off the floor and moved to perch on the couch at the extreme end of it. Mulder was shaking visibly as reaction set in, and the hand holding the tumbler with the vodka in it was threatening to slop the stuff over the side of the glass. Krycek put his hand over Mulder's shaking one, gently taking it from his grasp and putting it on the table. Then he got up and shut off the TV, extracted the video and replaced it in its case. Finally he removed the phone jack from the wall and laid the cord on the coffee table.

"Mulder, this has got you really rattled, I can see that. Let's talk about what you're going to do. I can help you, but not until I know what you intend." Krycek's voice was gentle and matter-of-fact, and Mulder could cope no more. His face crumpled as he dropped his head forward into his hands. He began to shake.

Krycek waited patiently for his outburst to run its course, but after a while he clicked his tongue and moved to sit beside Mulder on the couch, putting his hand on Mulder's shoulder to rub it in small circles. Mulder slowly relaxed into the other man's touch, and all of a sudden Krycek found himself with an armful of very distressed special agent. Mulder lay against his chest, his head pillowed on Krycek's shoulder as he shook. Alex could feel his neck becoming damp and realized that Mulder was actually crying. He put his arm around Mulder, stroking his back gently and murmuring reassuring things to him, his lips brushing lightly over his hair.

For a while they remained that way, the bruised and battered renegade offering comfort to the man he had betrayed so many times. Gradually, Mulder began to calm down. Slowly Mulder made a visible effort to get himself together, finally pushing away from the man who had been holding him.

"God, Krycek, I'm sorry, I didn't mean... " Mulder stammered to a halt and raised his eyes to Krycek's. Krycek was looking at him with curious expression on his face. Mulder could see self-deprecation written there along with a strange look of longing.

"It's okay, Mulder. You don't need to worry. Let me help." Krycek was subdued and Mulder looked at him out of sorrowing eyes.

"There's nothing I can do. You lost your arm and it's my fault." He wiped his face in the crook of his arm and continued to watch the other man.

Mulder could tell when Krycek came to some kind of decision. A certain resolve passed across the face, setting the chin and making his eyes shine. He was beautiful despite the bruises Mulder had dished out.

Krycek was still looking at Mulder. The two of them seemed transfixed - Mulder, red eyed from his recent breakdown, and Krycek, bloodied and torn, gazed at each other as if they had never really seen themselves before. Krycek was the first to move. He lifted his hand to cup the back of Mulder's head and pulled him forward into him until their lips met. Soft at first, the merest brush of tiny wings, the touch of Krycek's lips caused Mulder's insides to perform some strange, esoteric maneuver that took all the blood from his brain and sent it slamming through his arteries. It piled up in his cock, distending it until he thought that he had become entirely an extension of it. He gasped, a helpless little gasp, and leaned forward, lips parting and eyes closing, to taste the man who was kissing him.

Krycek felt that movement signifying his consent, and his hand, fingers spread wide, pulled him closer as he turned his face to deepen the kiss. His tongue flickered on Mulder's lips, swept over sharp teeth and in behind, to taste and stroke and lick.

Mulder slid his arms around the other man, pulling him against his chest, lolling backwards to feel the heat and heft of Krycek as he parted his lips still further to permit the exploration of his mouth. He suddenly knew what he had been waiting for during all these years of loneliness and wondered if he had truly found it or if he was about to be hurt more than ever before.

The two of them slowly slid down the couch until, finally, Mulder lay on his back, and Krycek lay above him, mouth locked to mouth as if the two of them were joined forever more. Krycek moaned softly, trying to climb inside Mulder, as Mulder clung to him, feeling his body harden as they strained against each other. They lost it all in that kiss. Time disappeared, and old bitterness, fear and worry all evaporated.

Then Mulder's cell phone rang.

At first they ignored it as it lay on the table beside the couch. They kept right on kissing, Mulder groaning now as he tried to find Krycek's smooth skin under the cotton of his T-shirt, but as the ringing continued, Mulder stretched out his hand to grab the phone, pulling it towards him, flipping the top open so he could talk. He pulled away from Krycek's lips and tried to sound normal as he spoke into it.

"Mulder." Silence.

Krycek was burrowing into the hollow between neck and shoulder, laving the sensitive skin with his tongue, nipping delicately on Mulder's flesh as he drew his mouth over it. Mulder, his cock standing hard and straight, was breathing hard and at first did not hear the voice when it came.

"Are you enjoying him, Mulder? Are you going to fuck him? He's a pretty boy, Mulder. Just imagine sliding your cock inside him until you can't drive in any further. Imagine him sucking that cock of yours until you scream out loud... " Mulder threw the phone away from him and it smacked into the wall on the opposite side of the room to fall, still talking, to the floor. Krycek lifted his head, dazed green eyes meeting his, as he looked his question at Mulder.

"It was him. He knows what we're doing. He knows you're here with me, and he was asking if I was going to fuck you. How does he know?" Krycek looked him for a long moment, before ducking his head to kiss his lips tenderly. Then, he moved pushing himself off the couch, leaving Mulder sprawled as he went to the desk to fetch paper and a pen.

He picked up the cell phone, turning it off and folding it up, ensuring that every further call would go to Mulder's voicemail. Then he took the pen and paper and drifted over to sink down on the floor beside the couch. Mulder lay gazing at him numbly, and Krycek touched a forefinger to his lips to indicate that he should remain silent, before bending his head to write on the notepad he'd brought.

**He has this place bugged. Shall we go somewhere else, or do you want to search for it? ** As Mulder read the message, the look in his eyes was thanks enough to Krycek as he passed over the writing implements. Mulder took them and composed his own message.

**Search first. If we don't find anything then we go elsewhere for the rest of the night. ** Krycek read the hastily scrawled message, nodding his assent to Mulder as he did so. Laying his hand along Mulder's cheek, he stroked Mulder's lips, pulling his mouth open before bending to lay his own against it. Mulder's arms strained around him, and he suddenly, finally, knew that this was what he wanted and that for maybe the very first time in his life, he was not alone. When at last they broke their kiss, it was to gaze into each other's eyes, dumbstruck. Finally, Mulder pulled away, standing up and offering his hand to Krycek, who took it, pulling himself to standing against Mulder's braced body.

Standing, they came together again. They had to. They were unlike poles and had been destined from the start to cling together, be it in love or violence. Mouth reached for mouth as tongues licked and probed, hands clutched, and hips thrust against hips. For a while it seemed unthinkable that they could be near each other and be any other way. Then Alex, he was Alex in Mulder's thoughts now, moved back, and mouthing "Come on" to the man in his arms, he took a small, pen-like object from the inside pocket of his jacket, and began to sweep the apartment.

As they moved around the room, Mulder wondered what was supposed to happen. Then a light began to flash on the end as Alex approached the TV, and seconds later it was a continuous light as Alex fished out the monitoring device that was secreted inside his VCR remote. They found two more bugs in the living room and then turned their attention to the other rooms, turning up more devices in the kitchen and the bathroom. Amazingly enough, they found none in the bedroom, until Mulder reflected that it was not so strange after all. He hardly ever even went into the bedroom. They had reconnected the phone now, and it seemed as if they were set.

At last Alex (definitely Alex) turned to him.

**I think we got them all lover. We can go to the next stage now. ** They had gathered the little sound transmitters together and had flushed most of them down the toilet after Alex had de-activated them. One remained, sitting on the coffee table in front of them. Mulder nodded and leaned forward for a quick but thorough kiss, running his hands over Alex's face and through his hair as if he wanted to learn every inch of him. Then, he took a deep breath and began, low voiced at first, to berate Alex. He began by snarling about his habits, and then as his voice grew louder, he started to yell. Alex began to reply to him, and the two of them screamed and shouted at each other. To a listener, it sounded as if they were abusing each other. Only they could see that they held tight to each other's hand as they continued to yell. At last, Mulder took his gun and fired it, once, using a blank he had stashed away in his drawer. Alex gasped and choked. Then he silently rose and padded away into the bedroom to watch through the darkened window.

Mulder sat for a moment, whimpering, and then rose and opened the curtains. He opened the window and hung out of it, looking down and sobbing. Alex, who had been observing, suddenly thought he had spotted a slight flash in the darkness of an apartment opposite crept through and out of the suite. Mulder picked up his gun again, put the muzzle in his mouth and, with a muffled cry of "Alex", pulled the trigger. The bang was terrific. He fell to the ground, thinking that he would never hear again. All he could do now was wait for Alex. He wondered whether he was an idiot to trust Alex. He wondered if he had been behind it from the beginning, and then he remembered the feeling of his lips against Alex's, and he was sure that Alex was not his stalker.

It was 4:30am but Mulder was not tired. He was full of need. He was full of longing. Oh, God, dared he say it? He was in love. He felt as if he would never sleep again. He lay on the floor of his living room, not daring to move in case he cast a shadow or alerted his nemesis that he was still alive. He wondered how long it would take for Alex to do what needed to be done.

The phone rang. With a trembling hand he inched across the carpet to pick up the phone. He pulled it to his ear and opened his mouth to say his name. He was forestalled.

"Fox? Hey, baby. It's all over. I got him for you." Alex's rough voice brushed sensation down from his ears in a direct line to his cock. A thrill went through him. Alex had done it. He was free of this thing that had been scaring him.

"You'll never know how grateful I am, Alex. Never." His own voice was ragged. He was reacting now to the terror of the past days.

"Oh, baby. I hope I will. What are you going to do? Throw me out? I intend to collect payment in kind." Alex was whispering now, passion in his voice, and Mulder could feel his own cock beginning to swell again.

"Alex, are you going to come back? I need you. I really do." Mulder could not think of anything but the kisses he had shared with Alex. He couldn't wait for them to become lovers. He hadn't ever imagined that his life would be like this, but now, he was so desperate he was almost fainting at the thought.

"Fox. I'm coming in a minute, but I need you ready for me. Open your pants for me, baby." Mulder reached down as if in a dream and unfastened the top button of his jeans, then he pulled down the zipper, standing on his shoulder blades to pull the garment off.

"Okay, I'm ready, baby. Now what?" Mulder was squirming against the feel of the rough carpet, and as he talked to Alex, he was busy pushing his boxers down and kicking them off.

"Stand up, Fox. Come on, show yourself to me." Alex's voice husked over the phone, raising goosebumps on his skin. He lay on the floor for a few seconds more, while he thought about this sudden, strange new relationship. He thought back to earlier, when Alex had kissed him and finally pulled back the curtain that seemed to be hanging over his soul. He shivered as he thought of just how Alex's kiss made him feel. As his mind replayed the scene, he shivered with lust and pulled himself up to standing. He looked out of the window but could see nothing at all out of the ordinary in the apartment block across the street. He heard a sharp intake of breath, however, as he appeared in the window, naked and erect. The voice on the phone uttered a heartfelt "Bozhe moi." And Mulder shivered.

"Alex, I don't see you. Where are you?" A light flickered across the street and for a few brief seconds Mulder could see the silhouette of a man in the window before everything went dark again.

"Fox, my God, baby. This guy had everything. He videotaped you. He took photos, audio, everything." Alex's smoky voice dripped on his eardrums as Mulder listened, raising ridges of gooseflesh. He unconsciously put his hand down to fondle his erection, "Oh, God, baby." The voice came again. "You look so good like that. Stay there, I want to see you." The voice was huskier than ever, and Mulder heard and exulted in the clearly audible deepening breath as he displayed himself in the window. He smiled and licked his lips and then dropped his hand down to his penis. It was rock hard now, stiffer than it had ever been.

"Fox." The voice was strangled now. "Touch yourself for me, please.... Put your hand around it. Oh, Jesus, you're so hot. Slide your hand up and down on it for me. Come on, baby." Fox grinned again, put his hand up to his mouth and spat into his palm. Then he moved his hand to take hold of his cock once again and began to slide his hand up and down from the base of it to the tip, groaning a little as the sensations grew under his expert ministrations.

"Is this what you want me to do, Alex? Is this how you want me? I'm doing it all for you, look." He could hear the gasp followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper, and his whole body thrilled. "Are you playing with yourself too? Tell me what you're doing, what you're feeling."

The head of his cock was red and shiny. Droplets of liquid oozed out, and Mulder smeared them over himself with his thumb. "God, baby, I'm so close."

Krycek's voice was harsh and strained. He tried and failed several times to say something, and then finally he could be heard. "Oh, Jesus, Fox. You're so beautiful. I'm...Oh... Aaaahhh!" The last was almost a scream from Alex. Mulder finally could not bear it any more and shot his come all over the window, his head thrown back as he felt the orgasm flash through him. He wished he could watch Alex the way he was watching him and moaned a little.

"Alex, please come back to me." Alex's answer was short and sweet.

"Try and keep me away."

Mulder turned to grab a Kleenex and began to perform a rough and ready clean up on the window, and then drew the drapes for the second time that night. Once the place was a little cleaner, he moved to the couch and sat waiting for Alex. So quietly did Alex enter that Mulder jumped when he appeared in the doorway. He half stood, and Alex's smile was like a sunrise as his face lit up. He walked to Mulder as if he were under water. It was as if he had tasted love and he was afraid it was going to be snatched away from him. He put his hands on the older man's shoulders and pulled him up until he was standing against him. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, and then the two of them were kissing, no space anywhere between their bodies.

To begin with, Alex offered tiny, closed-lip kisses, dotting them over Mulder's face as Mulder rubbed himself shamelessly up and down Alex. He was beginning to stiffen once again as he felt Alex's urgent embrace and the touch of his lips on his face. After a few minutes, Alex pushed him back and began to strip off his pants. Mulder dropped to his knees to help pull the jeans down over his long, lean legs, leaning forward to lick along the length of the cock that appeared as the denim was pushed down, and Alex gasped again.

"Baby, do you have a bed?" Mulder could hear the care with which Alex had articulated his short sentence. He looked at the man standing in front of him, and his heart thumped painfully against his chest.

"Come on." He took Alex's hand, and led him into the bedroom. Mulder had had a waterbed until very recently, but the damned thing had sprung a leak on one never to be forgotten morning. Mulder felt as if that morning had been lived time and time again. He now had a conventional bed, although his ceiling still sported mirrors.

"Please..." Alex was tugging at his hand now, turning him, and he forgot to profile. He forgot to breathe. He forgot everything except his lover's miraculous smile, and then his lips, and his tongue.

The two of them lay on Mulder's new bed. Alex had rolled to cover Fox, and he was again giving him the tiniest of kisses. Again and again he touched his lips to Fox's, and Fox began to grow impatient. He reached up to snake strong arms around Alex's neck and pulled him into an embrace that just about stopped his heart. Alex groaned, resisted for just one moment, and then gave himself up to the kiss that Fox was initiating. His lips parted and the two of them suddenly found that they each wanted to engulf the other. Tongues danced and flickered as they learned the taste of each other. Alex was the first to break the kiss, as he slid his mouth over his lover's skin. He kissed the skin of his throat, then found the rubbery pink nipples that nestled in amongst the curls of hair on Mulder's chest, and sucked them one at a time into his mouth to tease and worry at them.

Moving down from there, until Alex's short hair brushed his belly, Mulder looked at the man who was in his arms, making love to him. He wished there was something he could do to make up for the brutality he had shown earlier on that evening.

Alex was finely made. There was no coarseness in the set of his head on his elegant neck or in the way his chest swelled out from his shoulders to narrow down to a taut waist. He had powerful, lean legs, and Fox felt the breath catch in his throat as he looked his fill at him. He suddenly realized what he could do for Alex as he tugged at the other man's T-shirt and felt the hiss of protest and the stiffening that owed nothing to pleasure.

He slid his hands under Alex's T-shirt, running them over the smooth skin of the back he could not see. Closing his eyes, he began to undo the fastenings that held Alex's fake arm to him. Alex suddenly realized what was happening and protested, but Fox soothed him as he fondled and stroked his lover.

As Alex opened his mouth to tell Fox to stop, Mulder had already gone beyond. He glued his mouth to Alex's and struggled with Alex's T-shirt, ripping it up the center when it would not come off without too much effort. Alex moaned and Mulder kept his hands on the back of Alex's head in his need to keep the two of them connected.

"It's okay, love. It's okay. You're beautiful anyway. Let me see. You don't need to hide." He peeled away the cotton that he had shredded and rolled Alex onto his back. The stump of his arm was scarred and reddened. Blisters around the place where his prosthesis would fit looked angry, and he looked at it with horror for a minute. Then he lowered his head to it and kissed it gently. Alex had stiffened up and appeared to be getting ready to bolt for it, and Mulder kept his arm tight around him.

He turned his head to glance at Alex. The man had closed his eyes, and there was a wetness to his long, thick lashes that brought a lump into Mulder's throat.

"It doesn't matter, Alex. It really doesn't. Don't hide from me. Come on, baby, open your eyes for me." And Alex opened huge green eyes, pupils dilated as he looked at his ex-enemy. Mulder couldn't hold back any longer, and he took Alex's mouth in a kiss that was so hard and demanding that the other man groaned.

Feeling Alex strain against him, Mulder rolled again so that Alex could move freely, and the younger man lay over him for a few seconds more, devouring his mouth, then slowly he began to draw away again.

"I want...I need... " He was virtually incoherent as he looked down at what was being offered to him, and Mulder smiled as he watched his lover's complete brain meltdown.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me." Alex was moving down over Mulder's belly as he spoke, and Fox could feel the tracery of his tongue as he progressed ever lower.

"Lube. Need lube." Alex looked up from his vantage point between Fox's legs, and the sight of drowned green eyes made Fox gasp. He reached quickly to rummage in the drawer of the nightstand and finally came up with a somewhat elderly tube of KY jelly. He passed it to Alex, who turned it over in his hand for a moment, before giving a small hiccup of laughter and unscrewing the cap.

"Oh, wow, we're going to have to go shopping in the morning. I need to educate you about the important things to stock." He had spread some of the gel on his fingers as he was speaking, and then he was no longer talking, he was taking the head of Fox's erection and sucking it into his mouth, deep, deep into his mouth, applying impossible heat, and wetness as Mulder cried out. His slippery fingers stole down between Fox's parted legs to stroke the length of the crack between his buttocks, until he finally found the opening and circled it with his forefinger. Mulder tensed a little and mumbled a protest as Alex slid his knowing finger inside him.

"It's okay, love, trust me. It will feel really good soon, just give me a moment." He reapplied his mouth to Mulder's glistening cock, and as he worked his finger in and out of his tight ass, he sucked the head of his cock. Almost immediately, Mulder was too far gone to notice when the initial burning sensation gave way to warmth, and then to tingles, and finally, as Alex pressed deep enough, to a jolt of sheer electric pleasure he had not experienced ever before. He cried out at that and heard the low laugh as Alex acknowledged his partner. He removed his finger for a moment to apply more gel, and then Fox could not think straight any more, and Alex worked two fingers inside him, loosening him as he stroked him and teased him.

It was pretty soon that Fox could feel himself teetering on the brink of orgasm, and he was just about to give himself up to it when Alex pulled away, leaving him gasping and more than a little upset.

"Alex, what... ?" His lover smiled sweetly at him as he applied the last of the KY to himself.

He squirmed up to kiss Fox's mouth once again, and then turned him so he was lying on his side, snuggling up to him as he did so.

"Just wait a minute, baby, and you won't be sorry, I promise." Fox could feel the pressure on his slick asshole, and for a moment he was panic stricken, as the burning sensation produced discomfort and he could not see how this was ever going to work. Alex was nibbling and kissing the back of his neck and calling him 'beautiful Fox', and he wanted to climb out of the bed and run. Then Alex took hold of his cock with slippery fingers and began to work it up and down, thrusting himself home into the tightness of the passage he was invading. As he pressed home, he squeezed Fox's dick, and then began to slide slowly in and out of him, working his cock as he did so. Fox forgot his fears as the pleasure built up, faster this time, sending out its tendrils over belly and back, down his thighs and up to nipple and neck. He was helpless as Alex fucked him.

Lying in Alex's embrace, with Alex nuzzling and licking his ear and his neck, he felt as if he were a volcano. The dull heat inside him as Alex slid in and out was building into a sweet storm of fire. His cock was pulsing as his balls tightened, and he could do nothing except give himself over to the sweetness as the lava gathered inside him, tracing its passage to the outside with sharp fingers of bliss.

Alex was faltering now; his slow rocking had become a desperate plunging that he could feel each time the forward thrust met his prostate. As Alex finally screamed out his release, Fox felt the shaking as his own ecstasy hit, and he came, rigid and moaning, his sperm flying to spatter the two of them as he muttered Alex's name over and over again.

Bathed in sweat, the lovers lay sprawled, still loosely tangled together. Then Fox looked at his clock and gave a deep groan.

"Oh, Alex, look at the time. It's six am. Scully will be knocking at the door in a couple of hours." Alex, eyes half closed as he recovered from his exertion, pulled himself up just far enough to lick at Mulder's mouth before flopping back onto the bed again.

"Better phone her, baby. At least the phone will come in useful for something, and I don't intend to let you out of here for the rest of the day. Besides, later, we're going to have to watch the video I made of you in the window and I don't know if she's ready for that." He smiled, closed his eyes and was sleeping almost as soon as he did so.

Sighing, Mulder reached for his phone to leave his partner a message, before turning over to snuggle down beside his lover, reflecting that there was always something good that came out of things, even stalkers. 


End file.
